Terrans Make Wonderful Vocalists
by redburry42
Summary: Done in response to a kink meme prompt. Terrans have very calming voices when they want to, Peter is no exception.
1. Chapter 1, New Habits

Peter sat beside Groot and Rocket, the hour of the evening was getting late. Rocket curled up against Groot, folding in on himself in much the same way that all furry creatures seem to do when at rest. Plant and animal always got along well, or at least it seemed that way to Peter. He had not too terribly long ago gotten into the habit of humming and singing Groot off to bed, much as he was doing now.

The tradition had only recently started. When Groot was carried back on board as not much more than a twig, it had been Peter's main instinct just to comfort him, and he did the only way he really knew how. The lyrics from many of the songs his mother had left to him were pouring from his lips for Groot, their resident plant man. Although the ritual had originally sprung from Peter's awkwardness and inability to comfortably hold a one-sided conversation with the member of his team, he had grown to really enjoy the habit.

Peter never really thought of his voice as anything special. Sure, he seemed to have a minor talent, and Groot always seemed to enjoy it, but he never really pictured it as unique to himself or to his planet. The fact that Rocket always managed to sneak into the semi private concert was thought to Peter as more wanting for Groot's company rather than for want of his vocal skills.

Rocket yawned as he fell asleep, his companion long ahead of him. Peter couldn't help but grin to himself a little as he got up to leave, sighing as he lifted himself from the weathered looking chair, in the small, weathered looking room. Everything in his little ship was a tad worn down, but he liked it that way. The used and lived in space was definitely a home.

He trusted that everyone else was already down for the night, as he tipped toed past a sleeping Drax on the couch and into his now much smaller bedroom. He had recently curtained it in half to give Gomorrah a higher sense of privacy since they had all taken up residency on the small ship. He peaked his head over the top, stepping on his toes to see across the line from which the sheet hung, to see Gomorrah sleeping softly on the cushions that formed her bed. He smiled a little wider, and a little softer knowing that everyone looked to be at peace. After all, they had just gotten back from one hell of a ride.


	2. Chapter 2 The Adventure Gets Started

The following day was yet another adventure as the five of them rose again to fight yet another villain on a planet not too far away. In reality, it was a less a typical "villain" they were after, and much more the pursuit of wealth to be acquired through the dismantlement of an illegal empire.

"You guys ready?" Peter asked, a small, eager grin already spreading on his face.

"I was born ready." Rocket said, obviously excited for the action. Drax looked at him with a confused expression.

"Were you not born as a small infant, entirely unready for battle?"

Rocket sighed, but had gotten too used to Drax's inability to cope with idioms to bother at that point.

The five of them were quiet with anticipation as the ship landed on the planet they suspected their target to be based at. The target was a man named Eleanor Finsch, the 'kingpin' of a crime organization. The uncomfortably gang-like organization dealt primarily with the production of Kyrstal, a potent drug that had been recently growing in popularity. Peter could remember when he first started seeing it in seedy night clubs or bad neighborhood corners years ago, but now it was starting to spring up everywhere. The sudden success was making a man who sought their employment rather jealous. To the extent that he had seen in necessary to hire someone to remove the competition.

The airlock creaked open, letting out steam and mist made from the conflicting atmospheres. The surface of the planet was hot and muggy, the kind of environment that only seemed possible in movies in which prehistoric creatures would come back from extinction to punish man. The soil was wet and mushy, but covered in life. The five of them could feel their feet mush into the rank smelling soil the moment they stepped off. None of them were excited for the location, except for Groot that was, who looked as though he could not have been happier to be anywhere.

"It is humid." said Drax quietly, pulling his feet from the muck to take a step. Rocket rolled his eyes at him.

"Thank you captain obvious." He snorted at Drax, but couldn't keep a grin from forming on his face.

"I am not a captain, our team does not have-" He was cut off from a low hissing sound coming from Gomorrah's mouth. It was the one that suggested if silence wasn't quickly found, she was gonna kick someone. Her eyes looked fierce in the dark jungle like area, which aided in the intensity of her look. "rank." he added in a hushed tone, mainly for his own benefit. She snapped her head back in his direction, but let it slide. They were trying to be sneaky afterall.

The air was wet and warm, and had a certain unidentifiable quality that made the hair on the back of Peter's neck stand on end. The rest of the group crept behind him as he made his way in front, leading the team as always. As the procession moved forward, what could have passed as a small city came into view.

Bright, white lights that searched the sky shot out a few of the numerous towers before them. This was more than just some bust they were going on, this was taking down an empire. The plan was to coerce Elenore Finsch into stepping down, and to claim the rewards from a rival. If he refused, then a fight was in order, one that none of them would like. It was sketchy work at best, but they justified it easily when they heard the terms of reward. Peter could barely believe his eyes when he saw their generous employer's listing. "Elenore Finsch, dead or alive, 450,000 credits." Totally worth it.

Guards could be seen patrolling in the area below the stocky looking towers. They couldn't have been any taller than fifteen or twenty feet, but were still an issue regardless. Guards walked the dirty looking perimeter. In the center of what could only be described as the moderately sized fortress, was a large building with slick green walls that looked almost sickly in the low light. It stretched several stories into the air, nearly disappearing in night.

They waited quietly for the formulated plan, when one of the walking guards turned suddenly in their direction, suspicious of what might lurk in their bushes. The five of them crouched behind a hedge topped, miniscule hill that was not too far from the fortress. The guard was a young man, looked to be around seventeen. His eyes looked black as he eyed their hiding place suspiciously. The expression in them made Gomorrah a little sad, although she didn't really know why.

"He seems young for a soldier." She said quietly to no one in particular. Rocket did not feel any of the same spontaneously generated empathy that Gomorrah seemed to be experiencing.

"That's cuz' he's just a thug." He remarked, not bothering to care any further.

"I am unaware of any age limit on criminal activities." Drax added in.

Peter sighed, but didn't really have anything to say, although he was sensitive to the situation none the less.

"I am Groot."

"No, I do not care to think a little deeper into his circumstances." Rocket retorted to his friend. Gomorrah rolled her eyes at their antics, the emotional moment gone.

Peter surveyed the scenery as closely as he could. Sneaking in and out of places was not really his strong suit, but straight confrontation with the 'little boy blue' and his comrades seemed like the last thing any of them would want.

"How do we get in?" He asked Rocket confidently. The Rest of them leaned in to listen.


	3. Chapter 3 Down To Business

Rocket grinned, eyes lighting up with a spark that told Peter that he knew exactly how they were going to make their infiltration.

"You see that?" He said, pointing to the nearest tower. It lacked one of the many lights that shone upon the cloudy, murky sky.

"Do you think we are blind?" Drax demanded quietly, although not quietly enough.

The attention of one of the guards was alerted as he snapped his head fiercely in their direction. All were still and quiet as the same guard as before lowered the tip of his long, rifle styled gun into the shrubbery they had deemed their hide out.

They were out armed sure, but definitely not outmatched. Still, the five of them stayed silent as the young one from before pushed away some of the covering.

He turned, disappointed to not have found anything.

"Perhaps he is the one you should be testing for blindness." Said Drax, finally in an appropriate volume for the setting. Rocket didn't bother this time, and decided it best to continue discussing his favorite part of their course of action.

"Plan is, we make our way to that tower. It's gotta be the power supply." He gestured animatedly to the tower again. "Look how much wider than the other's it is." He added, furthering his point. The other's nodded knowingly, despite having little to no comprehension of what any of that was supposed to mean.

Rocket sighed silently. "Anyways." He looked at Drax. "You need to take down that tower." He turned to Gomorrah and Peter "Which will give cover of darkness and allow the two of you to sneak in undetected." He faced the group, grinning wildly. "Groot and I will create a-" He paused, allowing for dramatic effect as he eyed everyone. "_Worthy_ distraction." Groot smiled with him.

"I am Groot." He added with quiet enthusiasm.

Gomorrah nodded to Peter, who in turn nodded to Rocket.

"How do we all get back together again?" He asked, knowing that there must have been more to the plan.

"Drax, you join us in the distraction once the power's out." He glanced around to make sure that everyone was following. "When were done 'distracting them' we'll power through and find you two again." He said, as he gestured to Gomorrah and Peter, who were more than slightly concerned with the way he said 'distracting' although not nearly enough to mess with an already formulated plan of entry.

"Wait." Peter beckoned Rocket and Gomorrah to pause in their creation of the plan. He looked them both in the eye as intently as he could. "How will we all see."

Rocket furrowed his brow.

"That's actually-" He paused, thinking a moment. "Drax. We need to rethink your part of the plan."

No answer.

"Drax?"

Complete darkness.

"God dammit Drax."


	4. Chapter 4 Lights Out

Limbs everywhere. Running into each other. Tripping. Mud. The sounds of a hundred shouting guards. No one could see anything and the five of them had their hands full to say the least.

"What's going on?!" A voice sounded in the distance.  
>"What happened to the power?!" Another went off.<p>

"We've been compromised!" Another still, which sparked the ensuing chaos.

"Drax?!" Gomorrah shouted in the noise. Her voice was nothing compared to the instant pandemonium. Drax's laugh could be heard somewhat above the racket of the blinded base's red alert. They assumed the cracking noise was someone's skull.

More laughing.

More shouting.

The sounds of many running boots thudding and sticking in the mud. It was insanity. No one knew what exactly was going on in the darkness. The entire field had become invisible save the glowing cartridges of various weapons and the eyes of Peter's helmet.

"Attack what glows!"

Gomorrah's vicious voice was clear this time. Slicing noises could be heard. Grunts. The occasional thuds into the mucky, muddy ground. The greenest member of the team was definitely pulling her weight in the fight. Barely taking a hit, she cleared a path in the direction she could only hope was towards the tall building in the center.

Peter followed in her wake, taking down stragglers and hoping to somewhat preserve the stealth element of the plan which had been recently torn to shreds. It was pointless, but nearly anyone could 'disappear' for a moment in complete darkness. Except when their eyes were glowing red.

A punch to the jaw.

Kick in the chest.

Peter was quickly learning that fighting against a literal mob was not as fun as it looked in the movies. He was knocked down yet again.

Drax on the other hand, had yet to see failure in the fight yet. Waves of the under trained soldiers seemed to be bouncing off him. No one was really sure though. They couldn't see a damned thing.

Groot in his wisdom chose the moment to take full advantage of his occasional bio-luminescence, glowing like a candle in the dark. A beacon showing Peter and Gomorrah that much to their dismay they had in fact been heading in the opposite direction than they intended. They were in fact heading right towards the jungle from which they had emerged.

Gomorrah charged straight back into battle, emitting a cry that struck terror into the hearts of enemies who heard it. Some even ran. Peter ran ahead this time, fighting them off with true valor. Deciding against shooting a weapon into the mob, his gun served as a mighty club.

A kick.

A punch.

A crack on the head.

The subject of the previous verbs was down for the count, and Peter could not have been happier.

Then the lights came back on, and with them the power to all defenses.

In his sudden vision Peter saw several of the enemy guards laying on the ground, nursing various injuries. Most of which were likely due to accidental friendly attack, but that was beside the point. It was obviously a bad time for pride, but to a man who just now saw the effects of his teams toiling and fighting, he could really care less.

Turret towers suddenly whirred into action, the moment for vanity was over. The turrets turned, finding their respective targets. The fortress of the drug lord really did look much more formidable from the inside especially with all the guns pointing at them. The guards looked at them with the faces of triumph.

"We have you surrounded." One of them said, swaggering to the front of the group. "You may have taken down many, but-"

"Actually, that was probably mostly you guys." The interrupting Peter paused, grinning despite the bleeding lip from being on the receiving end of a strong left hook. "Really. Did it never occur to you,that shooting into the darkness, _in a hive of your own men_ could possibly be a bad idea?" His smug smile and animated manner was highly irritating to those that stood before him.

Gomorrah stifled a small laugh as a reddened and angry look replaced the one of victory on the once smug leaders face.

"We didn't have any trai-" He cut himself off this time, attempting to save himself the embarrassment.

Peter was elated.

"Look, it's obvious that we don't like you, you don't like you and you also don't seem too fond of us." He turned his face more serious. "We're here to meet with your leader, Elenore Finsch." He eyed them all, smirking smugly. "I don't suppose that you could take us to im'. I mean, You don't have much more option do you?" A guard behind him nudged him with the base of his pistol, reminding Quill of his presence.

"We have you outgunned, within our perimeter, and surrounded." The staunch leader said, folding his arms.

"Yep."

"That means that were making the demands."

"Uhuh."

The guard leader nodded, and suddenly Peter felt something hard connecting with the back of his skull. It didn't hurt too much though, as he wasn't conscious long enough to really feel it before passing out anyways.


	5. Chapter 5 Jail I Suppose

Peter had woken up in more than his fair share of unknown places. Usually, they were cold, dark, and exceptionally quiet. Where he woke up now was nearly the exact opposite. The ground beneath him was warm, cozy even. There was a soft drone of comings and goings on. A few voices, which wasn't unusual, although this time they seemed softer, more hearty with almost cheerful tones to them. While still half knocked out, Peter actually relished in how pleasant things were. Then he remembered what happened.

Snapping up, found himself in a room one could have mistaken for a bedroom. His friends were all sprawled out on the floor, much as he had been until recently. Looking around, he noticed that the walls curved up into ceiling and appeared to be made of some sort clay or reddish stone that reminded him of the Grand Canyon on earth.

The whole room seemed very homeish. Plush cushions, designs carved into the walls. It looked much like a place that some person would retire to and curl up in. The only feature which revealed the rooms nature being that of a cell was a large barred door at one side.

Getting up to check on everyone, Peter ignored the throbbing in his head from the blow he received earlier. Looking over Gomorrah, Drax, and Rocket, they all seemed fine. All of them were still breathing, chests rising and falling with labored breath, still dozing from being knocked out before. Groot, however was an issue.

Peter honestly knew nothing at all about how to check up on plant men. Groot didn't look like he was breathing, but then that could have been completely normal. He didn't stir, but again, Peter hadn't the slightest as to what that might mean for his friend.

"Rocket?"Peter quietly called. Rocket stirred slightly with an irritated look.

"Go away." He managed to mumble, not fully coherent yet. Peter grinned slightly, remembering all the times he had asked his mom for just five more minutes himself. Rocket eventually rose, sluggishly opening both eyes. "Oh, right." He paused, looking around the room to see the large barred door "We've been captured.".

"To the best of my knowledge, you're right." Peter said. He glanced over at Groot, who was laying half way onto one of the many cushions that littered the floor. Who ever threw them down there, did not do it so wantonly as to literally do any actually throwing. Both Peter and Rocket noticed how everyone was somewhat on the cushions in the room as opposed to the sandstone floors.

"Seems awful nice for a holding cell." Rocket remarked, curiosity salted in his tones. Peter nodded, and looked to Groot again.

"Is he ok?" asked Peter, trying to not seem nervous as to not worry rocket. Rocket shot a glance in Groots direction.

"He's fine."

"You sure?"

"Yup."

Drax began to stir slightly, coming back into reality from sleep. The first thing saw was the door, like anyone else would, as it was the dominant feature of the room.

"We have been captured." He said with finality. His voice was as loud as ever, booming really. Gomorrah woke with a start.

"_I shall have your_-" She looked around the room, realising that she was infact not in battle any longer. A moment passed in which everyone looked at Gomorrah, and she silently looked back speechless.

"We have been captured." Drax said again. She nodded at him, agreeing.

"What is our course of action?" She asked, in a much quieter, much less vengeful, violent voice. Peter looked to Rocket, who was already peering through the bars of the door, just barely too large to slip out.

Out of the cell, Rocket could see a long hallway, made out of the same sandy stone material as inside of their cell. It stretched on a ways before it led to a main room, in which more of the guards from before were sitting, talking, eating their lunches. The whole facility looked to be some type of cave system, deep underground. He noted that the warm floors were probably the result of this being a young planet, hyper with internal activity.

Peter looked to the studying Rocket.

"I think escape is your area of expertise." He said, not even sure if he wanted to go yet. They could escape any time they wanted with Rocket on their team, especially since the place seemed to have such low security. None of them had seen a single security guard since they had come to.

"I'm working on it." Rocket responded nonchalantly, but he quickly dashed back to the middle of the room. Sitting there, he gave the utmost impression of a raccoon minding his own business.

"What is it?" Gomorrah asked quietly.

"Shh." He said, feint as a whisper. The rest of them suddenly knew why as the sound of boots walking the hallway slowly came into hearing. They drew nearer and nearer and then stopped. They turned to see the same guard that had nearly found them before, standing in front of the doorway. He said nothing, looking them all over.

"Can we help you?" Peter asked with a cocky, self assured grin. Drax looked at him puzzled.

"Why would we wish to help someone who is clearly our enemy?" Gomorrah gave him a look to shut up, but he was done talking anyway. Drax was beginning to regard his friends like family, but he still found it moderately annoying that they felt the need to often say the most unusual surreal things, and then do the exact opposite.

The guard didn't say anything, but after a few more moments of uncomfortable staring, he pulled up a small stool beside the door and sat on it, facing the hallway.

"What an unusual little fellow." Peter baited, but the guard didn't take it. It looked that it was his job to make sure they didn't escape, so Peter decided to capitalize on that. "I reckon that it's your job to make sure that none of us get around to escaping before your boss can come around do what he wants with us. Right?" The others looked at peter following his lead.

"You are doing everything wrong." Said Gomorrah, standing up to speak.

"Harsh." Rocket commented, but let her go on all the same.

"You are sitting too close to the gate." She continued. "If I were to reach through it I would have your neck if I struck for it" The young looking guard must have listened, as he scooted the chair forward a few more inches away from the door.

"Also," Began Drax, "Your weapon is not drawn. If you were to be attacked, you would be defeated before you could even reach for it. The thug guard reached for it quickly, holding it now against his chest. He faced away from them, not turning in an attempt to have them think that he wasn't bothering to listen to them. But, they had really good points and he should have been doing those things in the first place anyways.

"Yeah." Peter chimed in, "Who actually leaves their weapon leaning against the opposite wall from where they're sitting." The young man's ears were redding, but he stuck to the reserve not to turn around.

"Do you cut your own hair?" Rocket snorted as he spoke. Peter shot him a look that had just a tad bit of scorn in it's features. Rocket sighed in defeat. "And your pants suck." He grinned smugly to himself as Peter looked at him sorta judgmentally, but the look on the guards face when he turned around to face them was well worth it.

The youngish man sighed audibly, he was getting to be done with them, and the whole situation all together. The guardians knew they were getting out eventually, but for the moment, this was entertaining enough and there was no real need to rush things.

"Dude." said Peter, mocking admiration. The young guard was not amused. "Lighten up a little. Come on." The look on the poor guards face seemed to lighten in the slightest. Peter smiled. "What's you name?" Peter asked, sounding genuinely interested.

"Uh, David." He said, slightly abashed. Peter's warm expression lightened the load slightly. The guard named David was having a hard time coping with these people. They just seemed kinda nice, almost. He was used to the banter of the others, some of whom who had been there for years go on about monsters and cut throats and generally those of horrible natures. The fact that neither Gomorrah, Peter, Rocket, Groot or Drax seemed horrible at all made him uneasy and confused.

"Were you guys the one's who saved the whole galaxy not too long ago?" He asked, his shyness betraying him. Gomorrah smiled a little.

"We are known for that." She said, now beaming. David turned red again, much to the amusement of Rocket and Peter.

"Uh," He paused, searching for his now lost and forgotten vocabulary. "Why are you guys here?" Gomorrah opened her mouth to speak, but Peter stole her chance.

"Were here to turn over your boss, Elenore." He said boldly, which offset David once again. He looked suddenly angry, as though affected on a very deep and personal level.

"Why the hell would you want to dethrone Elenore?" He asked, in a tone that showed deep offense.

"Look." Said Peter, gesturing his hands in sign of truce. "We don't know what you think you know about your good friend Elenore, but you seem like nice Kid. You're friend Elenore kind of a big time baddy. You know, manufacturing and distributing narcotics, murder; really the whole nine yards with that guy." David recoiled visibly.

"He manufactures medicine." He said, without an air of doubt. "We guard it to keep people from stealing and selling it when it should be free." He spat the words at them, regretting ever talking to them to begin with.

"Yep. That's some bullshit."

"What?"

"Elenore produces Krystal."

"That can't be true."

"Yep. You actually believed that you were helping on a top secret _medicine _base?" David blushed visibly, making the guardians begin to actually feel bad for him. His face suddenly turned angry.

"You guys are so full of it." He stated with all the angst a teen could muster. Peter raised his eyebrows, remembering himself at that age.

"I remember when I was eighteen. I was living on Yanu's ship. Just could not wait to stick it to the old people." Peter turned to Gomorrah. "Where were you at that age?" He asked her, feeling a little whimsical.

"Getting cut open and sewn back together by my father." She said somewhat curtly, making Peter regret ever asking.

Groot finally stirred on the other side of the comfortable cell, a happy rested look on his face.

"You baby." Commented Rocket, glad to have him back.


	6. Chapter 6 Back On Topic

The hours had dragged on, as the five of them still sat in the plush jail cell from before. Rocket had taken to absentmindedly plucking the fibers off of one of the many cushions on the floor around them. He walked as nonchalantly as he could to Peter, who was listening to his new tape over for what must have been the near thousandth time. He tapped his shoulder.  
>"What exactly are we waiting for?" He whispered, thoroughly amused with the amount of time that they had simply spent doing nothing in an easily escapeable cell block. Peter lifted his headphone, glancing at Rocket as if the whole plan was obvious.<p>

"We're exactly where we want to be. We don't even know if Finsch is around here for now." He paused, grinning. "The moment we want to, we can bust out, right in the belly of the beast." Rocket grinned.

David, the young man left to guard them was still awake, sitting to his best efforts alert and at attention. Despite finding the chance to be doing a job that was important thrilling. Guarding the guardians of the galaxy was getting to be the most boring, and uneventful of tasks. He was so excited to find out that this was his assignment, how disappointing it was turning out to be.

Another hour passed.

"This is getting ridiculous." Gomorrah commented, picking at something under her nails. The amount of boredom in the room was nearly enough for the paint to start melting off of the walls had there been any.

"Yo." Said Rocket, unable to take it anymore. "Davey boy. Your boss in?" The raccoon waited patiently for what felt like hours, but in reality was only about thirty seconds. Suddenly, heavy, booted foot steps could be heard drawing nearer. David straightened up in his seat attempting to appear more the model of a prison guard.

As the heavy steps grew nearer, they revealed themselves to be the rather

unexpectedly daunting Elenore Finsch, boss of the operation.

"Are these the prisoner's who were causing so much trouble?"

He asked David, already knowing the answer. "Leave." he told David, who obeyed instantly. Finsch's eyes were a shocking green in contrast to the light teal color of his skin. His long, thick white coat was vaguely reminiscent of one that could be found in nearly any lab. At an unusual height of nearly six feet and four inches off of the ground, he was definitely who they had imagined from the name.

The guardians were already at their feet before he even bothered to turn in their direction. Peter stood at the lead, closest to the door, the others fell in formation behind him. Finsch looked them all over with a mild disinterest.

"I know you could have gotten out of there at any time you wished." He paused pensively, looking them all over one by one. "You have my attention. What is your business with me?" He demanded calmly.

"We do not wish to do any financial transactions with you." Said Drax in a tone that would have been menacing had the content of the message not been so off point. Not knowing how to respond, the tyrannical Elenore Finsch ignored the comment. Peter was first to break the ensuing silence.

"You have two options." He said, swaggering up to the door of the cell, a cocky grin as always. "You can either step down, leave everything and make sure we never hear your name again. Or-" He hesitated, allowing the moment to sink a little longer, "we can take down you and your operation right now. "

The air was stale for one moment, and then another agonizingly long one began. At the end of it, Elenore spoke again.

"I have hundreds of men here." He said, gesturing to the one standing beside him. "They'll follow me to the death if I ask them to. The ones I don't bother to pay actually believe they are here protecting medicine." He grinned callously. "The moment you escape from here, an entire army will be on your asses like white on rice. You might have held your own well and good in battle, but do you really think you could take on all seven hundred of them at once?"

"We'll see about that." Peter responded immediately, folding his arms across his chest.

"You really think you're going to sneak out of here without anyone knowing you're gone?" Finsch asked incredulously. Peter stood silent, a look of contempt reserve on his face as his mouth formed a thin straight line. "Whatever. You're trapped like rats unless you're fine with attempting to murder some very good people." he said nonchalantly as he turned on his heel, heading in the opposite direction he came from. "Rot." He added over his shoulder in the increasing distance.

Peter had to admit that he was actually rather stumped as to how they were going to get out of this one and still achieve their mission.

"Rocket?" He asked, sure that he would come up with something. David had already gotten back to his post, and was sitting there, bored out of his mind like the rest of them. After much deliberation, Rocket had gotten his plan.

"When the guard changes in the morning, our best shot is to slip out undetected and then lock them in the cell. Since we're so big on the whole no 'murdering' people now, we'll only have a few moments before the others catch on to find Finsch." The rest of them all leaned in close to hear as Rocket spoke in a low, quiet voice.

"We have to wait till' morning?" Peter half whined. The five of them had already been there the better part of the day and evening. It was nearly one in the morning as they were speaking now.

"It's not that long." Gomorrah said quietly. "You are acting like a…" She paused, looking for the right phrase, that she was sure she had overheard him use before. "Man-child." She said, smiling at herself in appreciation of her own good memory. Peter was not quite as amused with her as she was.

The moments crept on slowly as if they were bogged with honey as they waited for night to turn to morning. Just when Peter was nearing the end of his own ability to wait, Groot, in his infinite patience came over to his side, laying down on the floor again.

"I am Groot."

"Really? Here?" Asked Peter incredulously.

"I am Groot." The message was clear.

For lack of anything better to do, and for want of something calming, with a deep breath, Peter began to sing.

"_Summertime, and the livin' is easy._" He began, letting the words of a lullaby he hadn't thought of since earth flow steadily from his lips.

"_Fish are jumpin', and the cotton is high._

_Your daddy's rich, and your mamma's good lookin_,"

He took another deep breath, reliving the forgotten memories of when he learned the song.

"_So won't you hush you tiny baby, and don't you cry_." His mother had smoothed his swirling hair and kissed his forehead. She smiled at him, sitting on his bedside that evening so long ago.

"_And on some morning, you'll wake up singing. _

_You're gonna spread your tiny wings, and take to the sky._"

She always sighed at that part, with a distant, bittersweet look on her face. Peter was too young at the time to understand, and the memory to long archived to decipher now. He continued his song, although he knew that Groot was at this point long gone. It was for himself now.

"_And till' that mornin', can't nothin' harm you_.

_So won't you hush you tiny baby, _

_And don't you cry."_

Peter hadn't realized that he was infact crying, and quickly wiped away the single tear that had found it's way down to his cheek. He couldn't stop thinking about his mom now. It had been years, but he never remembered that before, and now the new instance was fresh to mourn.

Much to his surprise, as he checked to see who had caught his moment of weakness, all of his comrades were fast out, breathing softly. Deeply asleep.

"Guys?" He asked softly. No response, but Drax seemed to be quietly snoring in the far corner of the small room. The oddness of the situation was not lost on Peter, who was now alone in consciousness. In a moment of curiosity, he poked his head between the bars of the door, spying at David who had nodded off along with the others.

He went back to Gomorrah, waking her by gently shaking her shoulder. Her eyes slowly opened after much more effort than he would have thought would have been necessary to rouse a trained assassin.

"Hm?" She asked sleepily, even still not truly awake yet.

"Everyone's out." Peter said, not truly sure what that should mean to them.

"Everyone?" She asked, now very alert.  
>"Yes. Even that David kid." He said quietly.<p>

"Then we must act."

After awakening the rest of the troops with, again, more effort than they would have thought needed a plan was set.

Sneaking past David was no hard trouble. Getting through the empty halls, maybe almost disappointingly easy. The plan was moving forward without a hitch.


	7. Chapter 7 Picking Up the Pace

"Are you a vocalist, Quill?" Gamora asked him, quietly of course as they made their way through the winding and twist catacombs. They knew that Finsch Had to be somewhere under the surface. After all, how big could a cave system be?

Pretty big.

The five of them silently stalked the halls, moving at a much quicker pace than they had originally anticipated. Peter had more time than he would have hoped to answer the question, but was just as content to think it over.

In memory, he never really sang that much as a child. Yondu was a good man, but not a particularly tolerant one. Peter reminisced about more than once being shooed off of the ships bridge for making the captain 'sleepy'. The more he thought about it, the more strange it began to seem. His voice didn't _feel _any different than anyone else's but there were lots of strange things about Terrans.

For one thing, they sweat, like, way more than any species has the right to sweat. Terrans are like fountains when under physical challenge. Also, they sneeze. No other species did that. Peter had often startled many by suddenly shooting air out of his nasal passages at sixty miles per hour behind them. No matter how strange Terrans were though, Peter didn't remember any of them having the ability to put others to sleep by making melodies. He had only met about two others in all his travels, but still.

After thinking for what felt like an hour, Peter finally opened his mouth to speak.

"Nope." He said, with a little smile for his team mate. This time around, the five of them were skillfully using stealth and the element of surprise to their advantage. Even Drax had silenced himself, letting the casual use of idioms slide in favor of maintaining the silence they kept about them.

Eventually, as trial and error would have it, they began down a cavern path that lead up and around, similarly to the shape of a spiral staircase. As the path turned in on itself, and the team rose up with it, they noticed that the air was getting heavier, and much, much more humid.

"We must be above the surface." Drax noted quietly.

"Well thank you Captain Obv-" Rocket paused mid quip for a moment. "That's actually a good point." He conceded, almost happy to have changed his notion. Gamora quickly stepped ahead of all of them, scouting up ahead of the group. When she returned, there was a grin of accomplishment on her face.

"The great hall ends not far up ahead to a door." She was excited but calm and ready. The team was more than ready for some action after being so confined for the last day or so. Itching at the ankles for action, they crept forward approaching the end of the hall with gusto.

As good luck would have it, the hall did infact end very quickly up ahead. A large, brilliantly green door met them at the end of the hall. Although a bit odd, the emerald surface seemed somehow appropriate to Peter. As the leader of the goup, he stretched a hand forward, to grip the equally green handle. He recoiled instantly.

"_Jesus_." He muttered silently, shocked by the texture of the door. It was in fact not painted that deep forest green, but was in actuality coated very thickly in a living slimy substance that Peter could only compare to algae. He regained his composure, rolling his shoulders as he reached for the handle again, but this time he didn't have to.

Groot reached ahead of him with his arms become a nearly uncountable multitude of tiny twigs and branches, and was already sliding himself underneath the door from all sides. The door released from it's hinges with a faint pop before he set it on the ground beside them.

"Wow." Peter remarked with a hint of true admiration. "Good job man." He added in a quiet whisper. Drax nodded to Groot with a look of commendation for the deed. Groot was more than pleased with himself as they began to lurch forward at a snails pace. The stealth that they had worked so hard to maintain before was now being tested.

Beyond the door, the cavern tower suddenly opened into an enormous room, the likes of which none of them had ever seen indoors.

"It's like a Super-Walmart in here." Peter said near silently. Gamora tossed him a questioning look, but didn't say anything. He thought for a moment before he explained. "It's like an archive of unusual people." Now she understood.


	8. Chapter 8 Lets Get to It

The five of them continued on, moving forward at the same established snail pace from before. Rocket could not believe that they had actually managed to go undetected for so long. Stealth was really not their strong suit as a whole. As the snaked their way deeper in the room, Rockets reengineered eyes were about the only set that could make out anything.

The walls were high and sloped upwards into a cathedral ceiling several meters above their heads. The walls and high ceiling were equally as green as the entrance was and Rocket made a mental note to definitely try and avoid them at all costs. In front of them, the room was littered with statues of all kinds.

Some were beautiful. A woman with long, flowing hair was depicted in one of them, her expression a mixture of sadness and fear. Rocket tried to avoid looking at the faces, nearly all of them had a face twisted up in some negative emotion. A figure of a great warrior before was crafted exceptionally from what he could only assume was marble. It was posed as if in mid attack, sword drawn, charging in heat of battle.

Gamora was able to see as well, although not as well as Rocket. A shiver was sent up both of their spines as they spotted one they found equally disturbing. A woman was shown cowering, the position itself was not at all special, many of the figures were hunched over in fear. What set the sculpture apart though was the small child she was shown trying to protect. In the darkness of the room, Gamora truly glad that Drax was unable to view the work of vivid art.

As they traversed, hopes that this was in fact the room that they were searching for were waning thin. Peter had managed to walk into not one, not two, but three of the works of demented art in the large room. Just as he stifled a short cry from stubbing the same toe for the fifth time, the lights flickered on in the great room. In the center, it was revealed that there was a large desk occupied by the very Elenore Finsch.

"Well done." He said in a rather hearty, earthy tone. The voice sent a shiver up Peter's spine, although he couldn't identify why exactly. Perhaps it was that he could now fully make out the strange statues before them, or maybe it was that the voice reminded him of things he didn't want to be reminded of. Never the less, there he was, a bit more afraid than he would have been proud to admit. None of that was relevant now though, he was the captain of a team, and a cocky one at that.

"It's about time you came out of hiding." Peter Quipped indignantly. Finsch ignored him, getting up from his desk and getting something large from the drawer. Even Drax would have admitted that the was rather intimidating in that moment had he not been too busy planning out exactly how he intended to defeat him.

The large device looked to be a frame, inside of which a blue swirling pattern twisted around.

"It's wonderful, really." Finsch began again. His voice was much more annoying now than it had been a moment ago. "You guys will make much better additions to my collection here than skeletons in one of my cells." Gamora could not get over how agitating his speech really was.

Suddenly, she jumped down on the rest of them, taking them down to the floor. Above their heads shot off a large blue colored blast, nearly ten feet wide. Gamora's instinct was perfect.-

"Well shit." Peter said aloud. Another blast fired in his direction. He dodged it with skill.

"Fan out!" He commanded his crew. The lot of them spread across the huge room, ducking in and out from behind the statues, becoming visible and invisible to Finsch repeatedly. Peter dodged several blasts, making his way closer and closer to the green-blue alien.

"This is just getting ridiculous." Elenore muttered after missing the lot of them several times. He reached behind him, unholstering an enormous axe like weapon. He ran at the last place he had located one of them. He swung the great weapon with force, cutting the statue clean in half.

"_Where are you?"_ He sing-songed, cleaving another statue down. He dragged the weapon on the ground beside him as he slowly walked, the sound eerie as hell. Suddenly a green colored woman was clung to his back, digging a dagger deep into his throat. He lashed, whipped about, and began to writhe. Gamora dug harder, pushing her weapon as deep as possible into the neck.

Suddenly realized that there was in fact no blood at all. She jumped back, leaping onto the top of a statue behind them. "Just kidding." He said with a smile as he turned to face her, mighty axe in hand.

"You are most unwise." She said calmly, perched on the head of what was once a great warrior.

"Oh?" He asked, a large, feral grin growing on his face.

"Yes. The time required to swing such a weapon is too great to be practical." He looked quite maniacal as he continued to move toward her.

"Yes, but it's just so much fun."

He swung, cleaving through the figure like butter. She barely made the jump to the next one. He couldn't stop laughing as he chased after her, much quicker than possible with such a large weapon. He would cut, she would jump.

A loud whistle cut through the air.

"Hey asshole!" Quilel called, running in his direction. He had no plan. Like, not even two percent of one. Finsch turned towards him, running with the ax. They both soared in the other's direction, someone had to do something. Luckily for Peter, that person was Drax, the goddamn walking tank.

Drax jumped at Finsch from the side, taking him by surprise. They both tumbled to the ground with extreme force. Their combined inertia slid them far across the floor. Drax held Finsch beneath him as they slid, steering them at last into a statue, cracking it open on impact with Finsch's skull. The two of them staggered up again, Finsch was noticeably bloodied.

Swing the great axe, he came at Drax.

"It's been a while since I've had a good fight." He shouted as he ran towards him. Drax narrowly dodged, catching hold of the handle and giving a strong blow to inner part of Finsch's chest. The punch landed hard, knocking the wind out of it's target. Finsch managed to pull his handle free, shoving hard into Drax's gut.

The rest of the team seemed to disappear into the background as the two fought, engaged in a mortal combat for their lives. Both seemed to be enjoying the fight.

Punches flew.

Kicks were landed.

Both had managed to cut themselves and each other on the razor edge of the great axe.

Suddenly, Drax managed the impossible. With all of the strength he had in him, he pulled so hardly down on Finsch, that handle the axe went suddenly through him. We was impaled, and slide down the handle to the floor. Dead before he reached the bottom.

Drax stepped backwards. A solemn look of triumph on his face. The rest of them stepped forward to the pair, having respected the battle enough to stay and let the two fight. Before them now, Finsch's eyes were oddly open, staring lifelessly to the high ceiling. There was something different to this death. It felt so much more personal. They felt truly that they had put an end to a life. They weren't usually bothered with such emotions, but this felt much more real somehow.

Drax stepped forward to the body, closing it's eyes with formality and finality, executing the gesture with great respect.

"He was an incredible opponent." He stated flatly. "It is custom to put an honorable opponent to rest honorably." He grabbed the bloody body, throwing it over his shoulder.

" Drax?" Peter asked half halfheartedly, having no affect on his teammate.

"I have not had a truly worthy opponent in very long. I must obey the order of O'shea." Peter didn't understand, but respected Drax enough to let it go all the same.

They made their way out again, undisturbed by guards when they saw the burden upon his shoulders. Peter couldn't help but wonder if they should make it a habit of taking the body as a petty attack deterrent.

Back at the ship, Drax completed a ritual which disposed of the body by fire. He came inside to join the others, his shoulders somewhat heavy. Gamora rested a hand on his arm, asking with her eyes of his well being. He nodded at her, and sauntered to the worn sofa where he spent his nights.

Rocket was the least understanding out of all of them on a regular basis. Now was no exception.

"Why the hell do you care so much?" He demanded of Drax, who was simply not in the mood at the moment. "That guy was scum. Tricked people into thinking he was a good guy for the hell of it." He continued despite being obviously ignored.

"I am Groot."

"No, I don't think I'm being insensitive to other cultures."

Gamora called Rocket into another room, setting him up on some useless task. "I just don't get it." He muttered as he left.


	9. Chapter 9 Night Night

Gamora stepped up upon her tip toes, peeking over the curtain between she and Peter's makeshift bedrooms. She couldn't help it, it was a guilty pleasure. As she stretched to look over, she noted the ways that chest rose and fell, as if to the beat of a soft song that only he knew. She liked that he always looked like he was dreaming of something.

A tiny smile found it's way to her face as she lowered herself. It was nice to see that he was at peace. She didn't know why she cared so much, she didn't feel that she had a reason to. Yet, on nights where sleep evaded her, she could find herself peeking over, just to check that he was safe. She sighed, quelling weekly the soft emotions that were tugging at her weathered heartstrings.

With a small huff of exasperation towards herself, she slipped back into her bed, attempting to get back to her own time of peace. Unfortunately, sleep was not meant to be had that night, as it had not been for nearly three nights before. Every time she closed her eyes, it was as though something pulled them back open again. She knew it must have been the dreams, but she didn't want to think of those.

Everyone on the ship was plagued by some sort of memory. Rocket was afraid of needles from events transpired. Drax could hardly look at toys anymore without thinking about the family he used to have. Everyone had their reason to lose some sleep at night.

Gamora turned over in her bed, which in turn let out a long, low creak. Peter, nextdoor, awoke from it, alerted and confused. Gamora cringed, mentally noting to simply never move in bed again ever. Soft bare foot steps padded their way to the imaginary door in their partitioned bedroom.

"Are you ok?" Peter whispered, a little bit of concern and fear in his voice. Peter was always a little paranoid when woken up suddenly. Gamora sighed, angry at herself for initiating this chain of events.

"Yes. everything is perfectly all right." She forgot to make her voice sound even a little sleepy. He noticed.

"Have you been up all night?" He asked, concern painted a little thicker in his voice. She paused, regretting everything.

"Yes." She said finally, sighing as she admitted it. She rolled over to face him, but quickly turned her face away. Peter rubbed his eye, not paying any attention to his state of nightly undress.

Boxers were comfy to sleep in, _end of story_.

Gamora, despite her initial embarrassment, sat up to make her own self presentable. Petter stepped over, dropping heavily to sit on the edge of the old worn mattress she was calling home for the moment. He his face and mannerisms were groggy but kind, as he sat there attempting to make himself a decent friend.

"What's up?" He asked genuinely. Gamora didn't know exactly how to respond. The whole situation seemed so strange, and he seemed so casual.

"I," She paused, taking a deep breath, attempting to ignore his bare back and the exposed skin of his shoulders. "Haven't been getting any sleep." She finally confided. Peter's eyes were mostly glazed over, but he was listening intently. He nodded.

"Well." Peter said with finality, "You know what we do on earth?" He asked her, a big sleepy smile spread across his face as he spoke.

"What?"

"We sing lullabies." He looked at her eyes, they were big and dark and fully awake. The words seemed to bounce off of her, unrecognized. "It's when you sing to someone until they fall asleep." he clarified.

"Like what you did on a mission not long ago?" She asked, genuinely interested. Peter nodded. It had worked then, she didn't see a reason why it wasn't worth trying now. Besides, Peter had a lovely voice. She snuggled down into the bed gently, willing to just lay back and listen now.

"_From this valley, the say you are going._

_We will miss you bright eyes, and sweet smile." _

He tried his best to sing sweetly and softly. Despite enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment, he was also testing a bit of a personal theory.

"_For they say you are taking the sunshine_

_That has brightened our pathways a while."_

Peter could already tell that she had fluttered off already, but it seemed wrong not to finish the song. He couldn't remember where he had heard it first. Maybe it was back on Yondu's ship, or maybe it was with his mother. Either way, it made feel nostalgic for something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"_Come and sit by my side if you love me._

_Don no hasten to bid me adieu." _

Someone had sang him that song a long, long time ago. He couldn't remember who. It could have been Yondu, but Peter doubted it. Yondu really wasn't a bad man, but he also wasn't a good one. Definitely not father material, but he tried. Peter smiled a tad when he remembered him taking him out for his tenth birthday. He let him order anything off of the menu, even the fancy side. While Peter was reminiscing the song continued on, almost as if it didn't really need him to be sung.

"_Oh remember the Red River Valley,_

_And the cowboy who loved you so true."_

Both Peter and Gamora now laid asleep. Peter didn't knock himself out, but he was tired and felt at ease right where he was. His reasoning somewhere along the lines of him being comfy right where he was and that she might need him if she woke up again.


	10. Chapter 10 Really?

The most infuriating problem with being a gang of morally ambiguous mercenaries was definitely the working with other equally ambiguous individuals such as yourselves. In this case specifically, infuriating problem was their anonymous contractor.

"For the death or removal of one Elenore Finsch," Peter snapped bitterly at the encrypted telecom, "You had agreed the price of four hundred fifty thousand credits!" The exasperation nearly had him yelling now. At this point, even Rocket was suggesting that Peter calm down a bit so they could talk about it rationally.

"You have no proof that he is actually deceased." The artificially deepened voice responded, nearly spinning Peter into a rage induced seizure.

"You want some damn proof?" Peter demanded, truly getting irrational at this point. He stalked out of the room, feet coming down heavy as he left.

Gamora pushed her hand to her forehead, having no idea what they were going to do with Quill. Drax stepped forward, squaring his shoulders.

"So, it is that you do not intend to pay us?" He asked calmly. There was a long pause from the other end.

"Not at all." The speaker paused yet again, choosing their words carefully. "You see, I have no reason to believe that he is truly dead."

"I have killed him across his own weapon." Drax said staunchly.

It had been a little more week since they had completed their last mission. As to having no way to contact their contractor, they simply had to wait for the predetermined time where they would be contacted. Peter was probably so affected because he really didn't like waiting for his payout. The whole situation had made him antsy, and he nearly expected something like this to happen.

"Drax!" A loud and insistent voice yelled from another room. It was Peter, who found that he was infact not capable of carrying, let alone wielding the great blue ax of Elenore Finsch. Drax sighed heavily, and went back to see what all the fuss was about. The two emerged moments later dawning the large weapon.

"Is this considered sufficient evidence?" Drax asked sternly.

There was yet another long pause on the other end of the line.

"This is most unusual." Said the voice, heavy with thought and consideration.

"Why?" Peter demanded. "Do you not have the credits?" He half taunted, half vented his fear.

"I can assure you all that you will be payed." He paused again, thinking.

"Who taught you to talk, Christopher Walken?" Peter asked, he looked around, but no one got the joke.

"It's just in light of recent events this is very unusual." The voice finally continued, ignoring Peter's quip entirely. "Production from that quadro hasn't ceased, in fact it's nearly doubled."

The ship would have nearly shook had the sheer force of the jaws dropping upon it been literal. Peter could have sworn his mouth had went suddenly dry.

"That's impossible." Rocket sighed loudly. "You take out the king pin the rest tumbles down." He stated flatly, it was a fact.

"So it would seem." The voice answered, puzzled.

"I am Groot." Everyone's favorite plant man chimed in.

"That's brilliant." Rocket commented, thinking about the situation as a whole now. He nearly didn't see the five other stares at him demanding the translation.

He looked up to see four sets of eyes and a hologram projection boring holes into him. "Oh, right." He muttered, suddenly remembering their incompetence at understanding even the slightest bit of Flora Marjoram. "Finsch must have just been a figurehead, the real head honcho must be working low key else where."

Everyone looked at Rocket and Groot for what must have been a solid minute.

"That sounds likely." Said the voice. "Very well, since you did not succeed in killing off the true leader, I'm not going to give you full payment." Drax drew a fist back for a moment before realizing the futility of such an action. "However, for the mission you completed, I'm willing to pay you half."

"We're the guardians of the god damn galaxy, you think we won't hunt you down?" Peter demanded, fully adamant in his newly announced decision.

"I don't doubt it." The voice said, mildly amused. "But I think that it would much easier for both of us if you just finish the job." He paused again, thinking. "I'll even tack on an extra twenty five thousand to make it worth it."

The man had a point.

"Deal." Peter responded bitterly.


	11. Chapter 11 Incipient Adventure

Peter stared at the ceiling above his bed, a look of bitter concentration painted on his face. He had been laying awake most of the last few nights contemplating events transpired and proceeding forward. He wasn't liking his options. As a former member of the Ravagers team and a known backstabber, Peter Quill was not well liked. Especially with the new hero business that they had been up to. Low lives, the people they needed to be talking to, were not too fond of him or his team at the moment.

Peter turned on his side, staring at the curtain partition in the middle of his divided room. Gamora was probably sleeping soundly on the other side, pale green skin rising and sinking like the tides on Terra. He, inside his head, much liked to compare Gamora to the ocean. She was beautiful and intense, but also ruthless and fierce. She was full of life, but would not hesitate to bring the angel of death in her wake.

All of his crew was amazing. Really, as a whole, they were quite the lot of magnificent bastards. Gamora was fierce, Drax was strong, Rocket was agile and Groot was kind when the rest of them didn't know how to be. Peter was amazing too, and he sure as hell knew it. Maybe even a bit too well, but that didn't really hurt anyone.

His crew was everything he needed them to be and at times even more so, the thought of letting them down made Peter's stomach turn over. Being the leader was the most fulfilling role Peter had ever experienced, but some circumstances required a broader set shoulders than Peter feared he had. In the current situation, he was transfixed. He could pick a random junkie, and follow up the chain. He could see if any of his old connections knew anything. Most of them wanted him dead at the time, but he was sure they could be assuaged. After all, he was Peter Quill, he could talk anyone out of anything.

When morning finally came, it did so harder than Peter could have dreamed possible. Breakfast greeted him with the same set of faces, looking to him for leadership. What he couldn't bear to tell any of them, was that he had absolutely nothing. He had no idea what to

do next.

But suddenly, Genius.

"Guys," Peter began, a smile growing on his face. "We're going drinking tonight."


	12. Chapter 12 Ease, Sleaze and Tease

Neon as a nightlight lit up the path to Peter's favorite spot. In the dead center of the heart of sleaze, the strip aptly named 'The Walk of Shame' by locals and regulars lead directly to their destination. The littered trail of scantily clad women and their thuggish male counterparts were like fresh welcome home to our hero. This was where the heart was, where the deals were made and most of all, this is where the adventures started. A loud crash was heard, and a large, burly man was thrown from a second story window. No one was at all taken aback.

"It's good to be home." Peter said, both to his crew and to himself. The path of obscenities that would have crinkled the noses of those of higher caliber set the crew of the Milano at ease.

"I had always believed that you were born on Terra." Drax commented absentmindedly, ogling the many attractions the strip had to offer. Peter didn't bother saying anything to correct

him, the moment was just too good waste correcting Drax on something unimportant for the millionth time.

The inside of the bar they entered was heavy and thick with smoke. Colored lights shown dim over a tawdry dancefloor and walls covered in long, dark, stained looking tapestries of different sizes and designs. The bar inside was attended by a stocky looking green man, whose face was transfixed in an almost permanent scowl. His hair was thick and dark which made a stark contrast to the little silver frames that sat before his eyes.

Peter's face lit up instantly with recognition.

"Chubs!" He shouted full of faux merriment, and throwing his arms open wide. The man behind the bar scowled slightly harder at the sight. The rest of the crew stood some what uneasy, disliking the atmosphere of the location. Chubs wiped down another glass to set down on the bar, all the while keeping his eyes on Peter Quill. Peter faked a hurt expression, putting a hand to his heart. "Oh come on Chubs, you remember me!" He said, hoping to coax out a response. Gamora shook her head and made her way to the green man.

"I'll have a double order Djoin all around." She said in a cold, business like manner. 'Chubs' grinned slightly, returning the respect in kind. Peter did the best he could to hide his soreness over being shunned, and downed his drink in a way that Terrans would have referred to as 'shotgunning'. Gamora rolled his eyes at him. She turned to face the other's but found them already lost to the grandeurs of the destination. Groot of course remained close to the door, disliking the atmosphere greatly.

"So," Peter began in another attempt to work over the man at the bar "I'm actually here for business, not pleasure." He said, leaning in a little closer. He had his attention now, but the man still remained uncomfortably silent. Peter decided to test his luck. "Heard someone turned over Finsch, and now there's some sort of power vacuum going on." Peter grinned, glad that his old pal chubs wasn't one hundred percent in the loop just yet. "I want in." The man raised an eyebrow at him, in an amused look.

"Ha." He said dryly as he poured someone else a shot of an expensive Oren.

"I mean it." Peter added intently. The green gentleman looked him up and down, assessing what he saw.

"Tell ya' what, Slim." He said to Peter, who was now leaning in intently. "Go talk to Kirri Stallone. He'll set you up." Peter pulled away, awarding Chubs a winning smile. He mentally noted to tip high on his next drink.

Kirri Stallone was a monumental four armed gentleman, with a tiger face and a mouth full of razor blades for teeth. He was certainly someone that Peter did not want to negatively acquaint himself with, even with his team by his side. Large man sat at a back table of the bar with two of what he liked to call 'associates' by his side. Both of them had their eyes glazed over in a thick, dangerous sort of way. Peter wanted no part in whatever the hell they were supposed to be.

He sauntered his way up, evidently trying to remain smooth.

"Can I help you?" The monster of a man spoke suddenly, catching Peter off guard.

"Actually," He smiled slightly, "Yes. I'm hoping you might know something about _business _these days." Peter said cooly. The stripes on the man's face twisted slightly, revealing him to be smiling in the dimly lit room.

"Business is good, " He said in an almost too calm of tone. His voice was one that could sound menacing narrating a disney movie, and sent a chill up Peter's spine. The man grinned at the sudden vulnerability from being taken so off guard. "I know who you are," He said as a cat would say to a mouse it had successfully cornered. "You're one of the guardians of our galaxy." He said, being uncomfortably playful. "So what do you, a big time hero, want with me, a regular thug?"

Peter took a step forward to avoid looking fazed.

"I'm no saint." He said roughly, still grinning a little as always. "I've stopped fighting my inner demons because now were on the same side." He added, furthering his point. Kirri looked intrigued. "I heard Finsch is out of the loop and I want in."

"Do you know." Stallone said, clearly amused. He folded his hands on the table, listening with a degree of care now.

"You bet your ass I am." Peter said, testing the waters. "Who do I gotta talk to?" He asked now, satisfied with not being attacked from the previous expletive. Kirri grinned wide, revealing a devastating row over razor sharp, shining white teeth that made Peter very uneasy.

"Things have been getting rather lackluster, ." He said, quite obviously leading on to something bigger. There were a few sniggers from the cronies on either side of him. Peter knew that Kirri was known for being a very cruel sort of man, it was going to be interesting to see what he was going to bust out next. "I'll tell you what. You last four straight rounds in the cage, I'll tell you what you need to know."

Peter took a step back, visibly a bit shaken.

"You mean me personally?" He asked, attempting to hide the hide the bit of fear that was in his voice now. The cage was a relatively unknown arena in a room in back. It was becoming a serious gambling hub, with bets being made on who was going to survive, and who would meet their end. The rules of the game, were that the match didn't end until one party didn't get up again, or was dead. Peter's stomach turned over slightly. Kirri laughed meanly.

"But of course."

Peter huffed, shaking his head.

"Oh come one man, don't be that guy. "


End file.
